Oh, Won't You Smile For Me?
by SirVacuumThe3rd
Summary: That one smile. The one that John gets to see not as as often as he likes. The one that always reminds him of how much he likes Sherlock. The one small smile that pulls him towards Sherlock every time. And it's that smile that makes John finds out how amazing it can make him feel, especially when it's directed at him.


John put it to imagination that sometimes his voice caught and his heart would stop when Sherlock would look at him. It was pure imagination, all fanciful imaginations. So what if when Sherlock would turn around quickly, coat billowing in the wind and a huge smile on his face John would just stop and stare at the amazing smile? A smile that only _he_ got to see; when something really excited Sherlock or when the realization of some important missing factor in a case finally dawned on him. So what if John's entire thought process would go blank as he stared at the smiling detective, feeling a smile on his face matching his? So what if they looked like a couple of bumbling idiots smiling at each other? He was trapped, ensnared by Sherlock every time he smiled at him. He couldn't move, couldn't breath, everything else wasn't important, only the face smiling at him. The smile that blinded him and made his heart overflow with happiness. He loved that smile. Loved it. He loved the tiny moments when he would get to see it flash across Sherlock's face. But, he loved the person who was smiling more. Much more.

* * *

"John!" Sherlock yelled, running into the flat. "I've gotten it! I've solved it!" He yelled, the huge smile on his face as he threw off his coat and ran in front of John. "All of it! Oh!" He smiled and spun around, arms out and eyes closed. "So obvious!" He stopped and smiled at John, putting his hands down on the arm rests of John's chair and leaning towards him. "How did I not get this before?" He said quietly, searching John's face as if the answer would be written there.

"I..." John said, coming back to earth. Sherlock needed to get his beautiful smile and face _far_ from him. He couldn't think straight. All he wanted to do was just kiss him. Just slowly lean in and kiss him. Simple.

"John?" Sherlock asked, his excitement starting to disintegrate. "John? Can you hear me?" He looked at John, his smile disappearing.

"I..." John shook his head. He looked at Sherlock's face inches from his, his eyes filled with concern as he watched him. _Sherlock! Get your face away! I can't think!_ He slowly tried to get his bearings, which were still out. _Why does your face do this to me?!_ Sherlock was still looking at him, his eyes searching for what was wrong. _Why can't I just kiss him?!_ John looked at Sherlock again, his face so close to his. _Why can't I?_ He stared at Sherlock's verdigris eyes boring into his own. He thought about it. _Why not?_ _It's not like we haven't been living together, like we haven't seen each other at our worst and our best. It's not like I could mess this_ _all up._ He blinked a few times and slowly breathed. _Why not? Might as well get it over with before my head explodes._ He nervously drew in a breath and faced Sherlock.

_One._

_Two._

"John?" Sherlock asked again. "John, what's wrong?"

_THREE!_

John leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sherlock's. Sherlock inhaled sharply, staring wide-eyed in confusion at his flatmate. _What? What is going on?_

John's nerves were a mess. There were a trillion butterflies in his stomach all trying to fly off at once. He couldn't believe he did this. He couldn't believe he finally kissed Sherlock, it couldn't be real. He closed his eyes, softly kissing Sherlock, hoping he did the right thing.

"John," Sherlock said quietly. "John."

John pulled back slowly, preparing himself to face the angry eyes of Sherlock. He didn't_ know_ that Sherlock would just sit there like a rock when he kissed him. He didn't expect that._ Cor! I've totally messed it all up. I was practically kissing a wall! _He opened his eyes to see Sherlock staring at him with dazed eyes.

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

John's heart plummeted. _He thinks this is an experiment._ He sighed, and looked up at Sherlock. _A bloody experiment! If it was, they shouldn't be able to hurt this much!_ John started to crawl into himself, the feeling that he messed everything up slowly creeping into his thoughts, slowly taking over the happiness he felt when he finally kissed Sherlock and replacing it with the insecurity that everything was falling to shambles.

"No reason," John said heavily. "No reason."

Sherlock stared at him, his gaze going far away. He didn't know what to do. _Why has he kissed me? He could have wanted to run a test, but he hates tests, especially when people are involved. So not a test. Maybe he wanted to...no. Sherlock! Get a hold of yourself. You should know this! Okay, he kissed me. Fact. Lets go from there. Why do people kiss? They like each other, they want something, or they're happy. Is John happy?_ He glanced at John who was looking out the window sadly, facing away from him._ Obviously not. Does he want something? No, he couldn't. He always asks me outright if he wants something. Hmm... Does he like me? No! Absurd. He knows I'm a sociopath. Couldn't be that, not at all. _He looked at John sitting quietly in the chair, a mix of emotions on his face.

_What the...?_ Sherlock looked at John and quickly shot his hand out to check his pulse. John jerked and turned his head, angrily slapping his hand away with a hurt expression on his face._ Heart rate elevated. Pupils dilated. Breathing heavy. All common in people in love. But hurt, not happy or elated. Not love. Not love. Why, if he has all of the characteristics of love, is he not happy?_ He glanced at John again, trying to avoid those hurt eyes._ Oh! Oh, oh, oh, OH! I've got it!_ Sherlock smiled at John, his eyes lighting up at this notion.

John was_ this close_ to hitting Sherlock._ This close._ He didn't need this, kissing him, being rejected, then Sherlock mocking him with the smile. That stupid smile that always got him. G_o away, Sherlock. I don't need you to make me feel worse about this._ He had had enough.

_John's in love! He's in love!_ Sherlock laughed out loud and grabbed hold of John's face, quickly turning it to face him. "You're in love, John!" He yelled excitedly, smiling at him.

John's mood dropped, like a lift cut loose and free falling down to earth. _Really? I never noticed. _He thought sourly.

"John, did you hear? You're in love!" Sherlock was still smiling at him.

"Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me." He said, a dark look on his face.

Sherlock's face fell, he quickly dropped his hands and stood up. "No, no, no." He muttered to himself, starting to pace. "No, you're supposed to be _happy._" He said, looking at John glaring at him. "Happy, John. Happy. Why aren't you happy? You're in love, all people in love are happy. But you aren't. Why?" He kept pacing, his brain working hard to find the answer. _What could it be?!_

John sat there staring at him._ The smartest person in all of England can't figure this out? _He thought sadly. He sighed and watched him pace about. _He's a genius! Why can't he figure out why I'm not happy! I've just been rejected unconsciously by the person I love!_

"Sherlock," John said quietly. "Sherlock, stop pacing and look at me."

Sherlock didn't stop pacing, he kept muttering and pacing the flat, not paying attention to John as his thoughts flashed by and his hypotheses tested themselves and were then compared to the evidence, all in the blink of an eye.

"Sherlock!" John snapped, standing up and grabbing Sherlock's shoulders. "Sherlock! Listen to me."

"Not now, John," he said offhandedly, still thinking.

John sighed and braced himself. "I'm not happy because... because you haven't noticed who I like." He looked at the still muttering Sherlock, knowing he'll probably regret this. "Because I like you. Sherlock, do you hear this? I like _you._"

Sherlock stopped suddenly and snapped his head up, staring John right in the eyes. "Impossible," he whispered, slowly connecting the dots. "Completely impossible," he continued, looking at John. "I'm a sociopath, I do not love."

John looked at Sherlock with a small smile. "You are very slow for a genius." He slowly let go of Sherlock, a feeling of relief passing over him as he saw Sherlock starting to put the pieces together. He sat down and watched him.

"Me," Sherlock muttered under his breath. "John likes_ me._ Impossible, impossible, impossible." He sat down on the floor quickly, still thinking. "But then why isn't he happy? He told you, remember? Because _you_ didn't notice."

John kept watching him, he loved seeing how all of this played out in his mind. It was only when Sherlock was _really_ baffled that he talked out loud. He watched Sherlock steeple his fingers, a confused look playing out on his face.

"But, I _did_ notice. No! You didn't! He had to tell you, but you figured out that he was in love. Not why he wasn't happy. Back to square one. He's not happy. Because you didn't notice he was in love with you. And that makes people unhappy because..." He rubbed his face and continued. "Because it means the person is either led to believe the person they love doesn't love them back, has no clue they love them, or because they think it will never happen. What does John think?" He paused. "No, I can't ask him!"

John chuckled at this, loving Sherlock's expression at this idea. Ridiculous, that's what his face said, how ridiculous it would be to just _ask_ what John thought.

"Okay, evidence to hypothesis. Does John think it would never happen? Definitely. He has no clue it could work. He should've figured it could...it could. But he wouldn't have thought of that. Next. Does the person John loves know he loves them? Yes. I do. Wait, no. I Didn't. Until he told me. Which means he has two of the three reasons to be unhappy and in love. Does the person they love love them back?" Sherlock paused and sucked in a breath. "...Do I?" He stared off into space, trying to think this through. _Do I love John? What does it mean to love? It's an intense feeling of deep affection. Do I have an intense feeling of affection for John? For the John who yells at me to not put my experiments in the fridge, to be nice to people, to 'shut up and eat some bloody food once in a while!', and who's just there for me?_

Sherlock snapped back out of his thoughts and stared at John. John stared back at him calmly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Did you figure it out yet?"

"Yes," he breathed, quickly standing up and going over to John. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes."

John stood up and looked at Sherlock. "A thousand times yes what?"

"I love you, yes I do. A thousand times yes." Sherlock smiled, and John's heart stopped beating. He looked hopefully at Sherlock, the Sherlock who had never been so oblivious to the obvious.

"John," Sherlock said quietly, a smile on his face. "I'm going to kiss you." He smiled again and quickly leaned forward, kissing John softly on the lips. He wrapped his arms around his waist delicately and continued kissing him. John's mind went into a frenzy, everything clashing together in a cacophony of joy and overloading senses. He reached up and tenderly cupped Sherlock's face, kissing him slowly, marveling at how his lips felt. Warm breath sent tingles up Sherlock's spine as John ran a thumb over his cheekbones, just grazing over his skin. He hummed in amazement that John could make him feel this way. His head felt light, everything disappearing except for John. John. The John _he_ loved.

John slowly pulled back, a smile on his lips and a blush spreading across his entire face. "Sherlock," he said quietly.

"John?"

"Can you smile for me?"


End file.
